Company of Wolves
by julieneer
Summary: /Dark/ She may not want him, but he’ll always be hers. /Skewed tale the Wolf and Rapunzel story and drabble series/
1. The First

"_Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair_."

She would never hear those words again, and it brought a mixture of emotions with the realization. Lying there, on the cold forest floor in a snowdrift, Rapunzel stared up at the sky with her braid curled around and under her like an enormous snake. She had thought of jumping out of the window many times before, if only to rid herself of the mundane routines of her everyday life and solitary confinement. There had been no other escape from her prison walls. No one ever came into these woods; knowing that the enchantress that haunted these woods may curse them.

Now she had finally jumped out of her tower, landing on her back in a snowdrift. She had thought the fall would kill her. The fall had surprisingly left her alive and at most with an incredibly sore back, but her hair, her wonderful, glorious hair, was much too heavy for her body to lift. She had no way to cut her burden off, nor could she even crawl. She would die of the chill sooner or later; shivering in her gown and thin human skin. It was either that, or a hungry animal would take her for an easy meal. She preferred the chill and thusly hoped it would come soon when she heard the faint roar of a bear.

Small, almost insignificant snowflakes drifted down, spiraling as they went to land on her still body. Rapunzel could no longer feel her fingers or toes. She prayed death would come soon when she saw a perching owl twirl its head down to look at her curiously from its high perch.

A small huff caught her attention. Her breath stilled in her throat when she turned her neck to face the sound. A Wolf sat near her and it merely stared at her down its snout. _The chill has come too late_, Rapunzel thought, as she looked at the Wolf whose eyes had not left her. "Hello," the Wolf said pleasantly, though the voice that issued out was rough since human-speak was not firstly natural, and the voice identified it as male. "Why, might I ask, are you lying on the ground and not safe up in your tower?"

Rapunzel worked her throat, but found she couldn't speak. The Wolf cocked his head before he leaned in close to her face, "Did you perhaps take a fall?" he questioned and Rapunzel heard the mocking tone his voice held. He looked up at the tower. "Such a long way down," he muttered aloud. "Or maybe," he mused, then looked down at her again, "You simply…tipped out?" he watched her watch him in fear. "The enchantress will be disappointed that you chose death over a life of pampered luxury."

"It was a prison," Rapunzel spat out.

The Wolf grinned at her, exposing sharp white teeth. "Luxury without freedom is worse than death, Rapunzel."

She blinked at him, "How do you know my name?"

The Wolf pressed his nose to her cheek and she flinched away, but he insistently pressed his nose to her. He inhaled deeply before speaking, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair." He looked her right in the eyes, "If I had promised your freedom, would you have let your hair down for me?"

Her eyes widened, "Yes," she said, breathless. "But I've gained my own freedom now."

The Wolf looked down at her hair curiously, pawing at it. "Have you? Your prison is gone, but your shackles remain just as real and solid."

Rapunzel looked at her hair. "You can't move with it, can you, fair Rapunzel?" the Wolf asked and his voice seemed smoother now. Rapunzel didn't notice the slyness in it, but only the better quality of it.

"No I can't, it drags me to remain wherever I am." She murmured, cursing her parents and the enchantress who so lovingly locked her away from the world.

The Wolf shifted so that he lay next to her; his thick coat warm against her freezing skin. His head found the crook of her shoulder and he lay there quite contentedly despite Rapunzel's cringe. "Should you ask for it, I will grant you your freedom."

Rapunzel looked to him, while trying to pull away from his heavy body. "Should I ask it, what will you ask for in return?"

The Wolf seemed to contemplate this, "I will ask that you never leave these woods. You will remain here for the rest of your days."

Rapunzel frowned, "And how would I gain a husband?"

The Wolf shrugged a furred shoulder, "If he would be such a good husband, he will follow you and join you in these woods."

Her lips thinned, "How would I find one?"

The Wolf grinned at her crookedly, "Many huntsmen, woodcutters and soldiers tramp through this place. Surely _finding_ one wouldn't be an issue."

Rapunzel eyed the Wolf. "Where would I live?" she asked, suspicious of the Wolf.

"There is an abandoned cottage not far from here, you could live there."

Rapunzel thought of this: of her frozen feet and hands, her chilling body, the weight of the world carried in her hair, her so close but just out of reach freedom and the Wolf. What his intentions were, Rapunzel could not guess. "Wolf, do you lie to me? Do you lie right now?"

"Never," he purred in her ear – too close to her throat.

Rapunzel thought of an almost handsome woodsman husband with two children sitting in front of a fire. Her imaginary family. She licked her lips though it did no use. She had no moisture left. "I want my freedom Wolf, but on your word, on your very most sacred word, I want you to swear that you have not lied about anything."

The Wolf buried his nose in the hollow of her throat and his tongue swiped over it in a wet rasp. Rapunzel jerked at the sudden movement. "I give you my word, Rapunzel that I lie about nothing. Close your eyes for a moment and I'll rid you of your burden."

Rapunzel eyed him before doing as she was bid.

With a sudden snarl and a heavy jerk, her lovely, gorgeous, accursed hair went snicker-snack under the Wolf's fangs. The braid snapped off like leather under a knife and it fell limp at her side. "Open your eyes."

She did and she looked for her braid, until she came upon it lying at her side like a dead snake. Rapunzel gripped the Wolf's fur and sat herself up. Her back ached incredibly but she could move now.

She smiled a little, combing her fingers through her now shorter hair. The weight of the hair was gone – she could now move freely. She may have traded a prison for another prison – but at least in this one, she would be able to move and mingle a bit. She wouldn't be locked away in a far away tower from other people. She would be able to walk and feel grass on her feet, the bark of trees or the wind in her hair.

Her smile widened and showed hints of her teeth. She did not notice the Wolf and how he gazed upon her or of the careful calculations that hid behind his eyes.

The Wolf watched her a moment longer before standing on all fours and he smiled at her in a most wretched manner.

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hope everyone you read it liked it, or at least thought it was worth critiquing. read and review if you liked it


	2. The Cottage

Thank you _Unlikely Rose_ for your encouragement and enthusiasm for CoW also, _supermegancom_ for liking the Wolf so much. I'm glad the concept of the Wolf and Rapunzel was welcome, b/c I wasn't sure if the idea would be generally accepted.

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_The Cottage_

Rapunzel trudged through the snow next the Wolf. She'd had to gather her skirts around her in order to walk. Her legs were weak and due to a lifetime of limited to no exercise, The Wolf watched her out of the corner of his eye. Rapunzel's lips pursed. They were cracked and she was sorely dehydrated. "A gentleman does not stare at a lady who is not in her utmost prime condition." She said, quoting etiquette lessons from the enchantress.

The Wolf scoffed a moment before cocking his head and coming closer to Rapunzel, who eyed him warily. "You forget, dear Rapunzel, _I am no man_." With that he snapped his teeth at her and bounded ahead.

Rapunzel stood stock still, looking after the disappearing figure of the Wolf. _He's right, he is no man. If he is no man, why should I honor him with my word?_ The light of the realization fluttered in her chest like a captive butterfly under glass. A cold breath of air brushed her shoulder length hair. Her nearly frozen fingers clenched at her gathered skirts. Enthralled and captivated by the wondering possibilities, Rapunzel did not take heed of the Wolf lurking cleverly behind a tree near her. He'd backtracked so as to make sure not to lose her.

A test, he believed, was in order.

From his vantage point, he could see the emotions that all humans, with their versatile facial muscles, couldn't hide from an animal. The Wolf saw the dawning insight of something Rapunzel had probably earlier overlooked. He watched her freeze up, despite the cold closing in around her body. His breath fogged in the air before him. He did what he always did best; wait.

Rapunzel shivered suddenly and her body took hold of her. She came out of whatever day dream she'd been having before she marched forth, feet catching in the snow. The Wolf trotted from behind the tree he'd been viewing her from. He'd allow it to pass without consequence, but he already knew what she was thinking. He hadn't been clumsy with his words earlier; to be more precise he'd been trying to flush out whatever thoughts she was having immediately rather than have her execute a plan with his guard down.

He bounded ahead of her easily and turned back to Rapunzel who blinked in a hard manner and sputtered. "I thought you were ahead of me," she managed to sound accusing with her lips cracked and ready to bleed.

"I was," the Wolf replied before he shook his coat to rid himself of a few snowflakes. "Hurry along before you catch frostbite," he snapped his teeth at her again. Rapunzel huffed in response but nonetheless walked quickly. The Wolf's ears went back when he heard her having trouble regulating her breathing. He waited until she stood next to him before he circled her. Rapunzel, despite being cold, exhausted and out of breath watched him carefully. The Wolf nudged her thigh with his nose, causing her to squeal hoarsely and she attempted to twist away but ended up tangling her rather inexperienced legs and felled herself.

The Wolf looked down at her and snorted. The heavy gown was weighing Rapunzel down – it too would have to go. With sudden snarl, he fell upon her and tore at the skirts gathering below her waist and went to work tearing most of them away; peeling at the layers like a fruit. Rapunzel had shrieked and pelted him with snow which the Wolf was kind enough to ignore, despite the nagging want to catch her wrist in his mouth and squeeze warningly. There would be enough time to show her his boundaries later. The last one, silken and nearly see through stayed. Its edge had been frayed from the Wolf's vicious attack, but it would do. "How dare you," Rapunzel yelped in outrage.

The Wolf merely looked on at her in boredom before his fur puffed out. Rapunzel blinked, not understanding his obvious body language. "Your dress was wearing you down, and besides that, you aren't strong enough to walk so far yet." He sat down and looked at her. "I'll carry you on my back the rest of the way."

Rapunzel, for a moment, looked repulsed. The Wolf restrained the urge the nip at her closest ear in reprimand for such a look. Her lips, which would turn back to their fine and plump appearance once she was healthy again, pursed in thought. She nodded once, quickly and her arms stretched out towards him like a child wanting to be picked up. The Wolf was just barely out of reach. Rapunzel's lips tightened. He cocked his head as if he didn't understand her request. "Wolf would you please carry me?" she asked through gritted teeth. He wondered if she saw through his act or if it had passed on in an oblivious moment.

"Of course," he responded smoothly and went into her arms. He allowed himself a moment's indulgence. Due to an easy life without work, her hands with thin boned and the skin was soft like a dove. Her nails were trimmed neatly and her muscles were sorely underdeveloped though there was not much actual fat to Rapunzel. Her arms strained to pull her up and she clambered clumsily onto his back. There was something mildly stirring about Rapunzel simply stretching out over his back and leaning her face into his fur for a moment before she twisted herself to the side to ride him as a lady rode a horse.

"How far is the cottage Wolf?" she asked, eyes narrowed and searching through the trees and brush and snow.

"Not far," he replied. As he walked, he felt her hands, small and thin, latch onto the ruff of his neck when she began to bounce. The cottage was indeed empty – the man and wife who had occupied it had fled for fear of the plague that was filtering through the homes of citizens from neighboring towns. Rapunzel had no immunity system to speak of, and so she would die immediately if she ever caught ill.

The Wolf's slow trot escalated to a faster pace that sent snow flying up in his wake.

Rapunzel instinctively leaned further down and clenched the Wolf's fur tighter in her hands while he sped up. Much as she loathed to have to do, this brought her closer to the Wolf and nearly placed her upper half flush against his heavily furred back.

The Wolf jumped over a fallen log before he slowed to a stop. Rapunzel looked over his great head and saw a small little hovel with a good roof and the stack that indicated a good sized fireplace. The logs for the fireplace leaned against the outside wall near the door. The Wolf lurched into movement once more and he turned the knob of the door with his teeth, ushering both of them in and shutting the door against the cold.

The inside of the cottage faired no better than outside for it had been vacated too long. Old furs hung on a well crafted, but dusty hanger. Rapunzel slipped off the Wolf's back but her muscles screamed and nearly betrayed her. The Wolf pressed the length of his body behind hers in order to support her. Rapunzel moved to the furs and wrapped them around her thickly, though they smelled of age and mold.

Rapunzel peered into a wooden water bucket that had seen better days seated on the dinner table. Her face was reflected back at her. She inhaled sharply at the state of her raggedly cut hair, her eyes and mouth but focused on the rattling scratch in her throat. The bucket looked too heavy for her to lift, so she looked over at the Wolf who watched her curiously.

She shook off his gaze and cupped her hands. She dipped them in the water to fill them and drank greedily. Her parched throat ached even more. She kept dipping her hands and filling them and drinking from them until her stomach ached.

The Wolf ducked his head and went outside to retrieve a log. He came back in to find Rapunzel curling up on the mattress, her short hair slipping about her face. He dropped the log in the not so recently used fireplace before looking around for flint. Rapunzel watched him tiredly, furs obscuring the rest of her body.

The flint the Wolf had found took a few strikes before it sparked, but it did and the fire did catch slowly. The Wolf turned from his place to edge closer to the bed. Rapunzel curled up tighter defensively at his approach. "Thank you for all that you've done, but I do believe that a gentleman would leave a lady to get her rest, in her own privacy." She murmured, her voice muffled by the bear fur near her mouth.

"And I do believe that I have told you that I am no man." He said; his eyes narrow in the twilight and almost devilish in the fire's backdrop light. He jumped over her onto the mattress and curled at her back. She stiffened but did nothing more. He sniffed at the back of her neck, knowing her skin crawled with him so close. A twig and two leaves had been caught in her hair, probably from her long way down. He bit onto the twig and dragged it from her hair carefully before he spat it out to the side.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

The Wolf huffed a low laugh that almost sounded like a cough. "Grooming you, fair Rapunzel, you seem to have attracted local plant life in your daring escape." One of the leaves, browned and damp with snow and sweat stuck to her neck. He licked at it roughly, scraping it off and Rapunzel tried to wriggle away from him though he lied across her to prevent her from doing so.

"You can leave me be now that you're done _cleaning_ me," she sounded absolutely disgusted.

The Wolf, his snout over the side of throat, looked down at her, "I'm comfortable where I am."

"A gentleman never lies on a bed with a lady other than his wife," she muttered darkly.

He rolled his eyes and breathed out in resignation, "I am no man fair Rapunzel."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "You couldn't be truer, but I wonder if you wish you were a man; as men have beds, and _beasts_ _have floors_."

The Wolf was quick – too quick. He snarled and snapped his teeth, and caused Rapunzel to shriek and bury deeper within the warm furs. The fire cast shadows that lent to the Wolf's fierce irate form. He bared his teeth to her and seeing her wide frightened eyes almost laughed. He kept true to form. "Dear, precious Rapunzel, you are probably the only creature if this forest – rather the only human – I wouldn't kill for such slights against me. But you press me far too much and seem to enjoy doing so. I am a hunter and therefore I know the meaning of 'patience' but mine only stretches so far," he pressed his nose to her right temple. "Even for you."

He took his nose from there and pressed the right of his head down on her chest, to listen to her small heart thud loudly in her chest. "M-My apologies, Wolf. My most sincere apologies."

His unoccupied ear twitched. The fire's warmth began to spread throughout the small home and the furs were raising her body temperature – not mention his body heat sharing with hers. Her skin looked less sallow and pallid and her lips seemed to be recovering. Looking at her eyes, gentle blue and apologetic and frightened and apprehensive; the Wolf knew she still had no idea of her intentions though the female instinct to run was probably causing her to be tense. If she had any real sense, she would find an immediate way to escape from him. However, unfortunately for her, the enchantress left her locked high above in a tower where there was no way to cultivate such sense.

Unfortunate for her, but most opportune for him.

"You're forgiven, of course, Rapunzel."

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And that's ch. 2 what I mean by a story/drabble series is mostly just a hybrid of the two, sharing the same storyline and plot

Please review if you liked it or didn't.


	3. Drabble: Foraging

Unlikely Rose, thank you for reviewing again and Baccus Cremaeus thank you too. I'm glad that everyone who's reviewed likes Rapunzel, and the mystery shrouding the Wolf.

_Drabble: Foraging _

Rapunzel has never known a home beyond the stone tower that allowed her to see all, but yet didn't allow her to see things for herself. It is this reason that she has absolutely no idea how to mend clothes, forage plants, fish or hunt and not even the faintest clue how to start a fire. It is this precise naivety that allows the Wolf that much more control over her. It's subtle the way he does it, and she recognizes it, but she also recognizes the need to learn and to survive. Once he's done all her can for her – once she learns how to live – she will leave this place, and the Wolf.

Trailing after the Wolf in a garment that had taken her days to sew; made of some of the old furs and tanned hide that the Wolf admitted to stealing cows and killing them in order for her to have clothing. Rapunzel, in warmer attire much more suited to this climate, didn't complain in the least. The Wolf turned to look back at Rapunzel and jerked his head in the direction of a berry bush. Rapunzel hefted the large old cooking pot from the cottage on her hip and knelt in the snow.

The Wolf sat and watched her fingers comb through the bush, occasionally catching her fingers on the large thorns nestled in it. Big ripe berries fell into the pot and her fingers were getting stained red from their juice. The Wolf, Rapunzel noticed, was now standing at attention and his ears perked at an inaudible noise. Rapunzel's fingers slowed as she watched him.

The Wolf suddenly bounded away in a flurry of snow and speed. A squeal echoed through the silent forest. Rapunzel's eyes widened and she made to stand before, "Stay where you are."

"Wolf what are you doing?" Rapunzel couldn't stop the slight quiver in her voice.

There was a long, profound pause and Rapunzel could feel the berry juice beginning to make her fingers sticky. "Foraging, fair Rapunzel."

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read and review if you liked it, please and thank you


	4. Chapter 3: Humoring

a/n: hopefully someone will read this and care enough to leave a review, as I've been dead for quite some time. enjoy.

Company of Wolves

The Wolf, of course, would always invite himself in when he pleased. Carrying a skinned rabbit or a doe which he'd chop up and cook in a stew or roast it. Rapunzel, as of late, had been asking for butchery lessons so that she may do it herself. The Wolf knew what this was leading up to but obliged, showing her the proper way to hold a knife, how to cut through tough sinews and through bone. It wasn't just the foraging, fire light, sewing lessons she demanded but it was the hunting lessons she wanted soon. She hadn't told him, but the way she'd ask how it was he caught the rabbit – something so white and fast and small and in the middle of winter! – to how he'd downed a stag; he knew that it was coming soon.

And, of course, per usual, he would humor her and teach her the ways of Man. Though, from everything else, there was one thing he would never, ever oblige her on.

Once, after she'd been foraging, a woodcutter heard her humming to herself, low and throaty and feminine but not quite as feminine as the Wolf thought it should've been; coming from her voice, and followed the sound. He'd come upon the cottage and saw that this young, beautiful thing with beautiful straw hair lived alone. He'd almost entered or knocked to give a greeting or something more, for the Wolf knew men didn't like to limit themselves. The Wolf had snapped his ankle in half with fast teeth. The man had opened his mouth to scream, falling on his side before the Wolf's jaws clamped over his face and _crunched_.

He could still hear Rapunzel humming, chopping up the rabbit he'd brought back earlier with roots and things, while he dragged the body far, far away. He left the body in the river, which went through the nearest town and he'd be found. The Wolf washed his face in the river then trotted back to the cottage and covered the bloodied snow.

Rapunzel, now, looked at him with queer speculation. "Where've you gone Wolf? The rabbit stew is still warm, luckily." She turned to get him a bowl and the Wolf, content with watching her, sat at the table. "Wolf, I know it's a chore, but would you bring more blankets? It's been getting colder even though I leave the fire on at night…" she trailed off and looked at the stack of logs that never seemed to go down.

The Wolf merely nodded quietly and ate the stew she set before him. She watched him carefully. "I will get more blankets tomorrow," he said, "Meanwhile; you'll just have to bear with it." Rapunzel nodded and continued to stare. He wondered if she was thinking what a nice fur coat he'd make. The thought of her wearing him was oddly satisfying, if not disturbing to some degree.

"Wolf?" she asked then, softly as a bird's flutter. The Wolf looked up, licking his chops from the grease of cooked rabbit fat in the stew. "You aren't a man, then why do you act like one?"

The Wolf watched her evenly, and wondered if her child mind thought the enchantress placed a curse on him. "Some wolves, from long ago, could all talk and think Rapunzel, but Man was frightened and so hunted them out, causing many of the descendents to be stupid."

Her brows furrowed, "Then how old are you, Wolf?"

He laughed, mouth open wide and giving a free show to his rows of teeth, "Not quite that old fair Rapunzel. As I said, many descendents became stupid – not all."

"Is it lonely then, Wolf? To be one of many but few?"

He looked down at the stew, "Not particularly, some wolves, stupid or not are meant to be lone wolves." He watched his reflection in the broth and looked at Rapunzel again, her blond hair, her green eyes, her smooth human skin and he remarked thoughtfully, "But it makes you want what you know you ought not to."


	5. Drabble: the comb

Drabble: **the comb**

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_Maybe_, Rapunzel thought, when she woke and found a comb on the table one morning, _there is far more to this deal than I ever imagined. Not once has he told me why he wanted me to stay in the forest, lest he wanted some form of company that could talk and think beyond a meal or territory_.

Now, she ran the comb through her hair, patiently tugging on the knots and sitting in the bed. She stared at the already lit fire, at the never ending wood, and at the home around her with frozen fruit, nuts and roots. _Perhaps_, she thought one day while brushing her short hair, _perhaps that though he isn't a man perhaps he could be a gentleman. After all_, she thought, _not all men were necessarily gentlemen and the Wolf had thusly proven that beasts could sleep in beds if they so wished, and with their paws could strike flint for fire and so forth_.

_But even if he is a gentleman_, she thought as she watched his figure rise up over the snowy hill, _I will nevertheless leave him. I told him once that more than anything I hated was a cage. _He carried a doe, fine and sleek, across his back and a smile – animal and sharp toothed – stretched across his lupine face. _This is one as well as the other one was – a gilded, luxurious cage with the illusion of freedom; a cruel and shallow impersonation of the real thing_. _One way or another_, she said to herself in the deep corners of her youthful, plotting mind, _I_ _will leave and on my terms, dear Wolf_.

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hopefully not too vague but not too heavy. review yes? critique yes?


	6. Chapter 4: The Stag

**a/n**: it seems I was too heavy last chapter; Rapunzel doesn't necessarily hate the Wolf but she does hate what he's subjecting her to; a leash, just like the enchantress had done. To Rapunzel, this is the greatest of all misdeeds because she's been so sheltered to all other forms of cruelty. Hopefully, I'll be able to clarify it more later.

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The Wolf was on the cross, and Rapunzel was the only unfortunate individual around to witness it though truly it wasn't her fault – directly. Earlier, when she'd attempted to hike down to where a hot spring was (tiny, cramped but wonderfully nonetheless), the Wolf had snarled and chased her back into the cottage and told her to stay. Rapunzel had protested vehemently but the Wolf was quick to show her his teeth. After that, he'd galloped away, sending flurries of snow from his fast paws and his breath fogged the air white.

He tracked the scents – the magic and evil that poured from it was enough to send flocks of birds scattering to the other side of the woods, the other was natural but wise and powerful. There were no visible footprints but both scents were carried strongly by the wind and ground.

The Wolf heard a crunch of snow and saw an enormous stag with flared nostrils and giant antlers. A forest guardian – seeing a Stag of that enormous size and wisdom and majesty was a nonexistent thing since the enchantress made her home in these woods. All it meant was that she was losing her hold over this place. The Wolf stopped quickly in front of the Stag, looking up at him. The Stag caught sight of the Wolf and lowered his head in a polite bow. "Hail friend and enemy mine," he called to the Wolf, his voice deep and light as a knight's.

His haunches rippled with muscle and his fur shined gloriously thick, his antlers curved and stretched like strong branches, his eyes were large and brown but wiser than any else the Wolf had bore witness to. The Wolf bowed back and came closer, "Stag, have you smelled the witch in the air?"

The Stag snorted, "Aye, it burns my nose and makes my eyes water. Like the fire-smoke pellets the hunters from the North use. She has lost much of her power though, I remember from when I was fawn that I could barely eat anything that grew in the heart of this forest."

The Wolf nodded, "She grieves, I think."

The Stag lifted his proud head and eyed the Wolf, long, powerful neck stretching, "Why would you say that, Wolf?"

"To tell you the truth, Stag, I've stolen something precious of hers. Something of a fine treasure or doll."

The Stag rolled his eyes, "That would be something the humans are good for." Here, his nose tweaked gently, "You smell of human, Wolf."

The Wolf nodded, "I have one. A girl one called Rapunzel and was the witch's treasure and prisoner all her life."

The Stag accepted this, as humans would do this type of thing, but cocked his head, "Surely you didn't kill the poor thing recently?" Stags, by their nature, were the protectors of the weak and innocent, a girl-prisoner to be killed out of misdirected spite would surely have an angry sharp horn pointed at anyone.

The Wolf snorted impatiently, "Of course not; I'm showing her how to survive. Cooking, sewing and the like. She's helpless."

The Stag grunted his approval, "But she is human so she won't be helpless much longer. When do you think it would be alright for her to be released safely on her own?"

The Wolf watched the Stag, "Would it be so queer if she stayed in the woods?"

The Stag shook his head, "But usually, humans don't take well to wolves."

The Wolf's lip curled, "And they eat deer."

The Stag glared at the Wolf for a moment but agreed humbly, "Only the young women come out to talk to Stags, maybe to gain a good eye from a god." He looked melancholic, "Man has prevented such a thing for some time though. The young women no longer frolic in the fields, or talk to us or feed us or beg us for a blessing. I haven't granted a girl a boon in ages." The Stag sighed and pawed at the snow beneath him. "'Tis a sad sight and a sadder existence to not be cherished. So I cannot blame you for wanting to keep her close."

The Wolf's curiosity was peaked, "What happened to the young women?" as a Wolf, he'd never been approached as the Stags and the wild Stallions had – he was, after all, a carnivore first and foremost.

"Man," the Stag looked astounded that the Wolf didn't realize this. "They look upon us and them, and what happiness we have to ourselves and the women are always fond of petting us and feeding us and telling us their secrets. We are what they love in a pure, unselfish form and Man hates it. Woman, instead of allowed being allowed a small happiness in between caring for children, housework and caring for the husband, are put to work in the fields. They have forgotten how to find us, how to call for us, how to love us. They've become bitter and unhappy, and ugly in their misery."

The Wolf frowned, "Maybe it is best she remain here." He muttered quietly, looking at the forlorn expression of the Stag across him. He shook his head and got back to the topic at hand; save bitter nagging of the failure Man for another time. "Friend Stag, the witch, I'm looking for her and I mean to kill her. As guardian of this forest, do you grant me this?"

The Stag watched him carefully, "I do, but no more bloodshed from the innocent." A stern, somber look replaced the Stag's earlier look and it caused the Wolf's hackles to rise defensively.

He wondered if he'd caught scent of the woodcutter's blood from a week ago. The Wolf lowered his shaggy head and bounded off in the direction of the witch, planning to rip her head from her shoulders to end her tyranny and the threat that she may forcefully take Rapunzel back.

In the twilight of the forest, across from where the Wolf was running off to, going in the direction the Wolf had originated, was a weary golden haired soldier.


	7. Chapter 5: the enchantress

**a/n**: thank you for your reviews so far, and no, this isn't a good bye note. just thought i ought to say it since i haven't before, i think. i hope this chapter tickles a review out of you all and thank you again for the support and criticisms. thoughts are always appreciated and i'm so glad that the wolf has grown on all of you.

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The Wolf, panting for breath in the cold air that burned when it went down his throat, stood before a cottage. He'd remembered the cottage looking much more impressive before, with an iron-wrought gate and sneering gargoyles. Now, it didn't look as sturdy; the wood smelled sickeningly sweet and spicy, the chimney was laid with shining red bricks (perhaps they were glazed then?) and the door had a colorful red and white spiraled border.

The Wolf's nostrils flared. He could smell the magic coming from this place; stewing and rotting within itself due to grief and misuse. His ears lay back, and he briefly wondered if he should have called upon the Stag to help him slay the witch. The smoke that poured from the chimney began to blacken and the Wolf's teeth unconsciously began to bare themselves naked; for on the breath of the smoke he could smell burning flesh and hair.

He crept closer, ears pricked and body alert for any surprises. Upon the snow-drenched window, the Wolf brushed aside some of the white stuff and lay his chin on the sill so he could look in. Within the cottage, two children sat down at the table and the enchantress who he had seen as a young beautiful woman with fiery red hair and black eyes was now a demure old woman hunched over as she fed the children baked sweets. The table the children ate at looked out of place in the quaint little cottage for it was enormous. From end to end it was covered with small lemon cakes and fruit tarts and buttery warm drinks and milk teas and red roast beef and baked apples. The food took up most of the table and was even piled up on each other.

The old woman smiled toothlessly and urged the children to eat, because after they were done, they could go lay down and she could tell them a story. The Wolf's ears lay back again as he pondered this. The enchantress he knew wasn't old and wasn't fond of children in the least. Maybe, he thought with a startling realization, he'd gotten the wrong witch! Or maybe this was a decoy witch who lured him away with a prominent magic-scent so Rapunzel could be spirited away from him.

Though his mind urged him to take flight back to Rapunzel, his instincts shook off the notions. This was the right cottage. This was the right scent. This was the right enchantress, but she was simply wearing different garbs. He went up on his hind legs and looked around more, nostrils flaring and exhaling heavily due to the burning smell lingering in the air. In her small kitchen area, he spotted a wooden cutting board and a large meat cleaver. The meat cleaver, with what he was able to see, had small shreds of flesh lingering on it and the cutting board was smeared in blood. He wasn't able to smell it but he doubted the witch cut up her roast beef. Many humans simply went to the market and bought it cut up and packaged in brown wrapping paper.

His eyes cut over to the children eating happily. One was a young boy who was stuffing himself with roasted golden potatoes and the beef with fresh slices of bread and butter. The girl had her hair in pigtails and was digging in to another berry tart. Some of her drink sloshed over and if he had to guess, the Wolf would assume it was hot chocolate.

The old woman watched them eat and ate a small, dusted lemon cake herself, sipping her tea smugly every so often.

The Wolf's ears laid back and he backed away slowly. This was not the enchantress he knew. It was her scent and her magic but it was so much more twisted and vile that it couldn't possibly be her. He looked up at the innocent cottage and realized that it was made of sweets – candy and sweet breads, and that its purpose was bait. Animals knew enough to stay away if only for the reason that it was all magic-scented, but children wouldn't know any better. They would trust their nose and their eyes. They'd go up to it and lick at the door knob a bit, of bite into the side of the house. They were lured here by way of their stomachs.

The Wolf started to snarl but stopped himself when he realized how late it was. He blinked and he spun around. The sun was already setting though he'd gotten here so early. How long had he been standing there, peeking in at the witch and her meal? He spat and his hackles raised when he saw shadows moving discreetly, darting to and fro, their shapeless masses growing in size and danger. He turned and bared his teeth at a majority of them and they backed away, hissing in their not-language before ducking in the shadow of a large tree.

The Wolf heard a small shriek and looked back at the cottage. A little boy's shriek. The flames in her oven had likely risen again and the smoke was grey. The Wolf felt shadows closing in behind him and he turned, snapping his jaws warningly. The evil that danced in this place was growing as it became darker. It was choking him and driving his senses wild. The shadows, now bolder, reached out long finger-like appendages to swipe at his tail. They whispered and murmured and screamed in his ears softly.

The Wolf howled once – a warning to the Stag and to everything else in the woods – before, with a leap and a bound, he shot out of range of the shadow-things. Running over snow drifts and leaping over fallen logs, the Wolf knew that once he came back again, he would have to bring the Stag.

All around him, shadow-things chased him, laughing and clapping and moaning hideously as though they were in pain.

The Wolf snorted and pushed himself faster, knowing very well that Rapunzel would still be in their cottage with the fire on. The light from the flames would likely keep them away, but if they didn't, _he_ would. He saw the light in the cottage and his thoughts centered on _a warm fire, Rapunzel, bear furs, Rapunzel's irritated voice asking where he'd been, doe stew and Rapunzel's hands when she rubbed his jaw almost affectionately, security from things that be, and Rapunzel's scent on the pillow and bed and all around him. _

He shoved the door open and without turning, he kicked it closed with his back legs and slid the lock shut. Panting, his tongue lolled out and he waited, waited for the shadow-things to creep under the crack of the door and feel their dark way in. His lips pulled back from his teeth soundlessly and he stood there, guarding the door with baited breath. Nothing.

He heard the sigh in disappointment and run shadow-claws and fingers down the door and the windows and sides of the cottage. After a long, long moment, they stopped.

"Is that a wolf?" a stunned voice asked behind him. The Wolf stiffened and he spun. His heart had taken enough surprises for the night – he hadn't needed any more. A tall man sat on a chair near the fire with a bowl of doe stew and some crude bread Rapunzel had taken to making with the cornmeal the Wolf would bring.

Rapunzel sat in the other chair, her finished bowl at her feet, and wrung her hands. "Um, yes, that would be the Wolf."

"Rapunzel," the Wolf spoke soft and quiet, "is that a Man?"

Her eyes, beautiful, beautiful silver and light green and blue, met his once before they went down, "Um, yes Wolf. This is Henrik."

Henrik looked surprised at all that the Wolf spoke and the Wolf assessed this man in his territory. He was tall and looked like a brute of some sort. His shirt bore a military emblem and he saw armor lying in the corner along with a sword. The Wolf looked upon this man, "_Henrik_", with hidden scorn and growing hate; his mop of unruly blonde hair and blue eyes, his dark skin and large hands, his large mouth with its dull teeth and his barrel chest. He looked to be a foot soldier, with incredible physical traits and, sadly but unsurprisingly, not the sharpest mind.

If he had to kill him, would he try to leave and take Rapunzel, or try to kill him, or not leave at all, the Wolf didn't imagine this to be the most difficult feat. He was big and strong, but looked dim-witted and slow. The Wolf was big (as those that could talk were always bigger than those that couldn't) and strong, but he was clever and fast. The giant would probably attempt some kind of heroic, noble move that would get him killed. Ever with his sword and armor and considerable bulk, the Wolf couldn't imagine him being too much of a threat.

He then noticed that the man had his arm in a simple sling. "He is injured, Rapunzel?" he spoke again, directly to the girl and not the man who was injured. Henrik didn't take notice to the offence.

Rapunzel did and the Wolf didn't bother hiding his malicious smile at her. "Yes," she said, raising her chin and pursing her lips, "_Henrik_, is and he's going to need to stay a night or so until he's able to move on."

The Wolf's ears went back while his eyes became much more piercing, "Is he?" he purred, soft and slow.

Rapunzel met his glare with one of her own, "He is."

The Wolf licked his teeth. "Then, welcome Henrik, to my home."

He almost laughed at the comically horrified look on Rapunzel's face. Henrik's look of shock was almost as satisfying. Almost, if not for the fact that Rapunzel cared enough for this man to look so embarrassed and horrified at his words, and if not for the fact that he found it a bit harder to breathe at that revelation.


	8. Chapter 6: The forest and the hunter

_The forest and the hunter_

* * *

The morning air was crisp but it was ripe with the scent of burnt flesh. The Wolf's ears laid back at the noise of a bush rustling and looked over his shoulder to spot the soldier clumsily carrying wood back to the cottage in one hand. Rapunzel was off near a berry bush barely making any noise. It was a kind of pride that filled him; to know that he had taught her not to make too much noise in the woods with wild animals running about. His nostrils flared and he tried to take in a scent of anything out of the ordinary. He could smell nothing but a deer. He turned with his hackles raised but he relaxed immediately upon spotting the Stag.

The Stag was enormous in his size, but in the same breath, modest and humble in his entire existence. He tossed his great head and small snowflakes were flung to the side like powder. The Stag looked over at the Wolf and saw the crouched blonde human filling a tightly woven, if ancient, reed basket with frozen berries – what little was left of them. The Stag snorted softly and trotted down the hill he'd been watching from to go to the Wolf. The Wolf, for his part, sat on his haunches and watched the Stag move. He seemed a bit stiff in the joints and he noticed there was a small blanket draped across the Stag's back. A small bump moved beneath the blanket.

The Wolf huffed in question, "What are you hiding there hunchback?" the Stag sent the Wolf a reproachful glance but tugged at the edge of the blanket to reveal a small head of brown hair and a pudgy little freckled face. The Wolf's face became withdrawn and serious. "The girl from the cottage."

The Stag eyed him, "Yes. I could not find her brother though I'm assuming you know why." The Wolf's head tilted in a nod. The Stag looked down at the girl. "She won't speak or eat. She drank water from a stream earlier but she won't touch any food I've found for her."

The Wolf caught a glimpse of the Stag's left flank and his eyes widened in surprise. "You've been cursed." An angry red glyph pulsed on the Stag's flank and his ears went back. The Wolf imagined he was holding back from crying out in pain. Curses were nasty businesses and deadly if they were kept on for too long.

The Stag grunted and shook his head again. "Yes. She caught me taking the girl."

The Wolf gave him a look of surprise. "You, soft-foot? How could she catch you?"

"The girl ran from the cottage and the enchantress chased after her, I heard the girl crying so I intercepted the enchantress and held her back from contaminating more of the woods. I took the girl and she cast a curse upon me while we fled." The Stag looked over his shoulder at the young child. "She has night terrors now. I've tried taking her to the human settlement beyond the woods but they cast her out. They believe her to be an omen." The Stag paused for a moment longer, "I cannot say they are far off the mark, after all, she was the main course for the enchantress."

The Wolf immediately knew what the Stag was on about. "She can't stay here. Rapunzel has taken on an injured bird of her own to look after. Big soldier brute from the West."

The Stag raised the muscles above his eyes in shock. "And you've allowed it?" he looked over to where Rapunzel was digging with a sharpened stick to get at roots beneath the hardened snow and dirt.

The Wolf sent him a dirty look. "Of course not. I don't have a say in the matter. She does what she wants."

"Humans tend to do that friend Wolf," the Stag returned dryly. The Wolf opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when the Stag continued. "At any rate, speaking about the more serious matters plaguing our forest, I saw a herd of horses passing through the forest. They spoke of being chased by a horrid beast that breathed flames; the same beast that had been chasing down and hunting their cousins." The look on the Stag's face was drawn.

The Wolf understood immediately. "The Unicorn-Hunter?" the Stag nodded and looked away. The small bulge on his back tugged at the blanket and secured it over her head again. "They've led it here?" the Wolf's teeth were bared and he felt vicious. Even the dullest of animals knew the importance of a unicorn in a forest. Their unicorn was old; her beard was long and graying and her horn was gnarled. She couldn't run as swiftly or protect as fiercely though for all her age she was extremely wise. For all her wisdom though, she would not be able to fend off the Unicorn-Hunter alone with only he and the Stag present as forest guardians. The creature would tear them apart. The same fate would await the humans in the forest.

Those stupid horses how could they? Lead the foul creature to their woods, unspoiled of the taint from the beast but already cursed with the enchantress.

"How long?" the Wolf snarled. The Stag cocked his head at him. "How long till the beast arrives? An estimate? A guess? Anything!"

The Stag snorted and bowed his head, "A week at most. At the soonest? Two days. The Unicorn-Hunter has hunted out nearly all the unicorns in the west and north. He still hungers."

The Wolf peeled his lips back from his fangs and breathed heavily, looking back once at Rapunzel who now stood with a full basket; looking on at him and the Stag curiously. He turned to the Stag. Without a unicorn in the forest, the sprites and fairies would leave, there would be no healing spring or forest magic; the forest's defenses against humans and witches and other such wicked things of the world would fall without a unicorn. Without a unicorn, the forest would die and they would follow. "What do we do?" he asked his voice low and rough.

"We may be able to convince her to move. If she does, we can at least stop the beast from tearing her apart for a moment so we may get a hit in."

"If she won't move? If she stays to fight?" the Wolf sounded desperate, thinking of silver hair and blood, thinking of pale, waxen human skin torn and blackened.

The Stag straightened and looked at Rapunzel again. "We send the humans on their way and we stand by her." His voice was soft and resigned. His brown eyes looked down upon the Wolf almost cautiously, "I say 'we' loosely Wolf. You don't have to bind yourself to the same battle." His eyes looked briefly at Rapunzel before returning.

The Wolf huffed in offense. "It will be our battle." He paused. "What should we do about the enchantress?"

The Stag pawed at the forest floor. "Lure her out in the open, in the path of that wretched creature."

"The Unicorn-Hunter is drawn to magic." The Wolf said slowly and the Stag nodded. "He will be drawn to the enchantress," the Wolf reached a grim realization. "Even if the horses hadn't led him here, he would have caught the scent of so much magic."

"Indeed," the Stag muttered. "If however, he stays despite the enchantress, we will have to fight. I'd prefer to have a viable army on our side when facing down that abomination."

The Wolf waited. The Stag was stalling for time. "I'm going to the west, to release the child into the care of people there. She will not be under a curse at such a place. While I am there, I will seek help. They have a unicorn as well, though she is but a baby. They will want to extinguish such a hell spawn well before it directly enters their territory." The Stag's great brown eyes rolled back to the Wolf, whose bright white coat caused him to melt in with his surroundings. "See to it that the enchantress does not try to flee or spread her poison. I will not have her eating more children or harming any more of this forest." He paused and pawed at the ground. "If I may be so bold…could you perhaps ask a favor of the red wolves that live south of us?"

The Wolf's ears flattened, his lip curled and he looked off to the side. "They are no better than dogs." He snarled spitefully.

"And as it is dogs have heart while wolves only seem to have longer teeth and thicker skulls," the Stag snapped. "I understand that such prejudices are not at all extinct in the canine region, but this is a time for a call to arms not to become martyrs for things that could be _avoided_."

The Wolf huffed. "And you would have me crawl on my belly to them, though they cannot even reach to my chest if I were standing?"

"I would. Because they are cousins to your brethren and to you. They are also what could tip the scales between a quick victory and a slaughter. Besides," the Stag offered offhandedly, "I must ask the elk for their participation in this skirmish. They believe themselves to be the true forest guardians." The Stag managed to deliver this insult without malice or disdain.

The Wolf looked over his shoulder to see Rapunzel no longer foraging and instead watching him. Though he caught her watching him, she was not embarrassed. Being treated like royalty most of her life had forced out many of the shy habits her kind had. As it was, she only looked curious.

The Stag raised his head to look at her. "You've no idea how much I envy you, Brother."

The Wolf tilted his muzzle. "How honest of you."

The Stag replied with a snort. "As if it could be hidden were I not."

"You say your cousins are like dogs…is part of the reason you do not wish for their assistance in our place because humans seem so fond of them?" the Stag inquired, tipping his head to look down upon the Wolf.

His lips curled to show teeth though it was not meant maliciously as the Wolf's head tipped back and he began to laugh. "They get along better with dogs because they have _tamed_ them, not because they are _fond_ of them."

"I wonder if it isn't the same for you then? She does as she pleases," the Stag needled, obviously enjoying himself.

"I am not tamed. I am a wolf; we are proud, wild and untouchable," he boasted.

The Stag contemplated this as Rapunzel began to creep closer; like a cat that slunk around when its interest was piqued. "You are very proud Wolf that much I cannot disagree with, and you are wild, but are not untouchable."

The Wolf peered at the Stag. "How so?"

"Wolf, Wolf is that a deer?" came a young, feminine and curious voice behind the Wolf.

"I am a stag young lady." The Stag moved closer, drawn to the natural beauty that was a maiden. The Wolf allowed it, knowing the Stag due to his nature probably felt lonelier than any other animal could; knowing that man now hunted them.

"Oh," Rapunzel, in spite of her ignorance showed no embarrassment for such a fumble, merely looked upon him with shining eyes. The Stag drew closer and bowed his head, a foreleg outstretched before him.

"Milady," he intoned. Rapunzel made a surprised noise and clapped her hands excitedly. The Wolf looked on, mildly amused and only slightly annoyed at the attention the Stag garnered.

"Milord, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she curtsied. She looked upon him with excited, honest awe and it shone in her very presence. Stags, the Wolf knew, were noble, majestic and defenders of all who needed it. He bent his head yet again to Rapunzel as she stretched out a small hand to touch the tips of his antlers. "You must be a knight." She murmured to herself though both present parties heard it. She paid no mind to the lump on his back and only allowed her fingers to wander over his antlers down to where they were fixed to his brow.

She bent her head to his to rest her forehead on his muzzle. "You're too generous milady." The Stag whispered softly, allowing himself to relax in the presence he had craved yet went without his whole life. "Ask me a boon, any boon and I will grant it," he insisted, his words slow and soft, as if he wasn't aware of what he was saying.

The Wolf watched this scene with a neutral observant eye. The Stag seemed almost compelled to say it, hypnotized by this girl who did nothing but coo and run fingers over his brow. "A boon?" Rapunzel inquired, only half listening to the Stag now.

"Anything. Anything milady, you only must ask," his large eyes drooped when she ran her fingers over the cusp of his left ear, tickling the tip.

Rapunzel opened her mouth and then her eyes darted to the Wolf. Her gaze dropped and her mouth closed. "Would you visit more often? I've never seen a Stag before." She said, and the Wolf's ears went back.

Such a sly, naïve little creature.

"Of course," the Stag acquiesced.

apologies for the long, long absence won't do...so i'll make it up and try to put out the next chapter faster. other than that, please r&r despite me being bad


	9. Drabble: nature of the beast

A (not so) mini bonding between the Wolf and Rapunzel, before Henrik.

Drabble: _Nature of the beast_

* * *

Wolves don't sing with words and ballads or with false promises and overgrown praises, but with the very honesty they seemed to be imbued with. The Wolf sang alone in the dark of the night when the moon was full. Sang to the sky of a hunting song that had been borne in each and every wolf ever birthed. There was something ancient, ritualistic and utterly beautiful about it. The Wolf never minded being alone when it was any other time, save for the full moon. Beautiful, lonesome, sad and a time of wild things, of wicked things, of magical things, the full moon was when the Wolf truly detested having no pack.

Running over fallen logs, bounding off rocks and flashing across white snow, when he sang the hunting song, there was no echo. There was no continuation. It was exactly as his life here in the woods was; temporary and empty. He'd eaten a pheasant earlier; tender and delicious, but he was still feeling bereft.

He came to a sudden halt in front of the cottage to see Rapunzel outside, looking up at the moon with an unrestrained look of content he had never before bore witness to. He trotted closer quietly. Rapunzel did not take notice of him. She wore a heavy fur about her body. "If you are cold you should go back inside," he remarked gently.

Rapunzel jumped and cast him a wide eyed look before she relaxed. "I am warm enough," she returned and went back to looking at the sky.

The Wolf lay down beside her with his head on his front paws. Silence reigned and it didn't cause discomfort. It was tranquil. "I have never seen it like this." Rapunzel whispered her voice still loud in the silence of the woods. The Wolf looked up, an ear cocked to her. "In the tower, the roof would overhang so that even when it was a full moon I would only see half of it. I am glad I never saw it before I was locked in the tower." She confessed. The Wolf waited to see if she would continue. "I think I would have missed it very much if I had."

The Wolf, for all his loneliness, did not envy Rapunzel's shortened view of the world. "Why do you howl, Wolf?" she asked, never taking her eyes off the stars.

He blinked and looked up at her for a moment before gazing up at the moon. "We've always sung. Howled to call one another across distant places, to show joy, to execute a hunt. I don't know why we howl, Rapunzel. Only that it is in our blood. In our nature."

Rapunzel turned to look at him, face open and eyes inquiring. "What is in human nature then Wolf?" her question was not one of bitterness or mockery, but of true curiosity.

He looked upon her, at the hair that was unbound from its braid and the tired green eyes that remained riveted on him and realized with a startle that she asked because she truly did not know. She did not know what being "human" really was; only what was taught to her through texts and the view of an enchantress who would damn her to a life as a doll. She did not experience a "human" existence. She only knew what they looked like. What they made. Nothing of their nature or inner workings.

But she needed an answer. Whether or not it was right, she needed one. He told her the one truth he knew about humans. "To find meaning, to have a purpose."

Rapunzel fell silent and he wondered if he offended her. "Thank you, Wolf," she murmured in her soft voice. "Thank you."


	10. Drabble: poisoning the apple

In this drabble, I decided to explore a little more on Rapunzel's character and how she is very stunted in her emotional capacity when it comes to other humans, having only the enchantress as her only other human contact. (Well, my theory about being locked in a tower away from human contact anyway). She came off a tad darker than I wanted but I think it lends to the overall effect of showing what the environment she grew in did.

Drabble: _Poisoning the apple_

* * *

Rapunzel used a dull knife to scrape off the bitter shell of the roots. The inner meat of the root would be boiled until it softened to provide a salty, rather tasty, provision. The shavings would later be thrown in the fire as kindling and would burn a smoky, spicy scent. Her blond hair, still long, was no longer wild and tangled but tamed to a degree that she couldn't help but mourn that it wasn't as silky as it used to be. It had become commoner hair. Commoner hair that was tied back in a braid, perhaps the only way she knew how to tie hair, and would lay about her face like a limp, dead thing when it was not. She scowled when a lock of blond came to lie at her cheek, wet from the snow and cold from the weather.

Rapunzel dared a glance at Henrik whose massive form dwarfed the door. Rapunzel didn't doubt that Henrik held some form of affection for her, but try as she might, she could muster up nothing for the big man; only a knowledge of that he may very well be her way to a different world near more people. The only thing she'd dreamed of since being a little girl. As she looked upon him, she noted how large his muscles are and how tall he stood. He would be very good at fighting, Rapunzel thought, and she wondered if he could withstand fighting a wolf with teeth and cleverness.

Henrik caught Rapunzel looking at him and grinned at her, broad teeth in a broad mouth with thin lips. Rapunzel cocked her head and smiled back, close-lipped, with a kind of sincerity that really wasn't very sincere at all.


	11. Drabble: hollowhearted

To whom it may concern, I offer no excuse, because I have none, but yes I acknowledge that I suck. As a small note, I wanted to show a bit of Rapunzel's stunted knowledge and understanding of communication and interaction, with a side of Wolf!angst and some pseudo-fluff. No specific time-set, but definitely post-Henrik who I hadn't thought to include in the drabble.

_Tenderness of the hollow-hearted_

* * *

"Do you have a mother, Wolf?" Rapunzel happened to ask one day, her shorn blond hair curled and still damp from her bath at the nearby spring.

The Wolf turned to her, ears cocked. "Every living thing has a mother, Rapunzel." He sounded amused by her question.

She sighed and continued to try to teach herself how to sew, using a flat hide of deer folded on her lap. "No…what I mean to say is why don't you have any family, Wolf? You said that wolves hunt in packs, like deer and cows are in herds and crows in murders, and people in communities." She paused in her needlework to suck at a prick on her index finger. "Where is your pack, Wolf?"

He didn't answer her, choosing instead to turn to look out over the white knolls and naked trees and the few tenacious daisies that popped out from beneath the snow. Rapunzel looked up to watch him. She waited and set aside her practice to scoot closer to him, hands folded in her lap. "Did they leave you, Wolf? As my parents did to me?" she asked, head tilted to the side. There was no malicious bitterness in her voice. It was a fact, quite far in the past by now, fact of her life.

Despising her parents who had never even known would never do her any good. They'd shown their salt when they'd given her up to the enchantress, and she wanted nothing from or of them.

"No." His answer was firm and Rapunzel found herself intrigued by the force behind the answer.

"Then what happened? It can't be as silly as being sold for lettuce."

A cold wind blew passed and there was only the sound of night birds calling through the thick coverage of branches for a long while before the Wolf spoke again.

"When I was a pup, monsters stormed into the forest carrying flames in their hands. They smelled of smoke and could simply point in a direction and there would be a sound of thunder and one would drop dead. They were ugly things with small snouts and beady eyes. They found my pack and killed all of them, but for the very few that managed to flee. I was small enough so that I could hide under tree roots to escape the monsters. They tore my pack apart and laughed, ripping their skin from their flesh and wearing them; wearing the dead gaudily like gold."

His words were steady even after he finished but there was a tightness in them Rapunzel didn't immediately recognize. His ears had flatted throughout the story and remained that way.

In response, she felt her own chest tighten but couldn't completely comprehend it. "That isn't silly at all," Rapunzel offered quietly. The Wolf dipped his head down once, and then nothing more. Rapunzel didn't know what else to say to him and even if she had an idea, she was doubtful she would be able to articulate it well.

She stared at the Wolf and his eyes that could not cry and for a long moment, feeling the tense atmosphere, came closer to the Wolf to press against his side fully. She felt him tense and then relax beside her. With a slow, hesitant hand, she held her palm to the side of his face. She was close enough that she could feel the very tips of his fur on her skin. His ears lifted by degrees and turned towards her though his head did not move and his eyes remained staring off.

Moments passed long and sluggish, before the Wolf pressed the side of his face into her palm. His ear was cupped by her fingers and her small palm cradled his cheek. He shuddered for a moment and simply appreciated the feeling of her skin and her awkward comfort. He sighed when she turned her palm and rubbed his ear.

"I don't understand," she confessed quietly after some time while she was still rubbing his ear and stroking the fur over his cheek. "I don't understand but when you seemed sad, Wolf, I felt sad too. Do I pity you?" she asked.

The Wolf closed his eyes and continued to take some comfort in the contact she'd initiated. "Sympathy, fair Rapunzel. Yes. Yes, you do pity me. Fair Rapunzel, kind without knowing, taking pity on the orphaned beast." He rumbled in his chest and kept his eyes shut.

Rapunzel blinked, slowly and looked down at him. His head was low, and her hand had followed him to continue petting him. Her mouth became dry and her throat became constricted. "Oh Wolf. Oh Wolf," she folded her torso to lie against his back, hand still petting him. "Oh Wolf. I am not fair," she whispered, turning her face into his fur. "And I am not kind, most of all to you."


End file.
